


romanticize

by orphan_account



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: AU: Teens, Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, High School, Liar, M/M, Slow Burn, angst with fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-05
Updated: 2018-02-04
Packaged: 2019-03-13 22:10:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13579977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: The underside of Aaron's eyes were dark with smudged brown eyeliner and made red with lip tint. He swayed when he walked and he kept one shoe untied at all times. He was the spitting image of someone with Teen Problems, and that was the goal.





	1. Chapter 1

Aaron walked up the stairs, gas station coffee in one hand, his phone held within the depths of a hoodie pocket in the other. He synced his steps with the slow beat of his music, played loud through one earbud. He pressed his fingertips against the sign that read the name of the building—ELM—a ritual that he'd performed for the past few years, just to keep some kind of routine to his hectic days.

The underside of his eyes were dark with smudged brown eyeliner and made to look somberly red with lip tint. He swayed when he walked and he kept one shoe untied at all times. Two capsules of Citalopram in each pocket—he had to make it seem like he actually hadn't taken his medicine in awhile. He was the spitting image of someone with Teen Problems, and that was the goal.

Tell people you don't sleep, you make it look like you're troubled but make it look good. People respect you that way. You respect yourself that way.

Keeping a character for two years is tiring, it's tedious, it ruins relationships. Continuing to act through that? Admirable. Respectable. 

He had slept about four hours the night before, enough to need coffee and not nearly enough to interact. Usually, he got about five. Somehow, that one hour always made the difference. 

He dropped his bag next to Spencer, who was sat underneath the ART bulletin board outside of the counselor's office. There wasn't an ART interest group anymore, but the main hallway had too many boards and if they took it down, the artists would have a fit. This was where his friends met before their first class. Breakfast was laid out on a table further down the hall, but he couldn't eat any of it. Full of gross chemicals and energy that he couldn't afford, right now.

Megan sat to Spencer's right and to Megan's right was Laura. No one liked Laura.

"Hey," he slid down the wall, dragging a bit of the board lining with him. He ripped it into thirds. "Did we have work for Health?"

"No," Megan said. She looked around at the confused faces, "I checked."

"English?" Aaron asked, digging through his bag. He pulled out his school laptop; it had a sticker that said WYATT in scratchy letters on the back (Wyatt was his computer's name. He named it because he liked naming things—there was a stapler in the Biology room with a taped-on sticky note that read SPENCER. The teacher put up with the stupid labels because she liked him.)

"Annotations. And we have a vocab quiz on Friday," Spencer muttered. "Did you study?"

Aaron scoffed and turned away. Megan looked at Laura, who rolled her eyes.

"You need to. We can call tonight if you want."

"I don't want to study, but I'll call you anyway," Aaron said. He pressed the power button over and over on his computer before sighing and shifting, giving Spencer his best Begging Eyes. "Do you have your charger?"

Spencer whined, plunging his hands into his own backpack, "Aaron, you need to find yours. You can't graduate if you lose school property."

"I've still got a few years." Aaron jammed the plug into the front pocket. Sure, he had his own charger wedged in between notebooks somewhere in his bag, but if he were to seem responsible and put together? No, his whole reputation would be on the line.

"It's 8:20," Megan muttered.

"What are we still here for? Only ten minutes 'til class starts!"

"Aaron, the classroom is literally two feet away."

"Laura..." Megan warned. Spencer bit the inside of his lip.

She let up. Aaron smiled and stood. He pulled Spencer to his feet and they set off down the hallway.


	2. Chapter 2

The day proceeded as normal. The schedule was, and would always be, as follows:

_[7:30 am – 8:20 am] Sit Under The Art Board_

_[8:30 am – 9:50 am] Sit On a Table in the Biology Room / Pretend to Listen / Look Tired_

_[9:50 am – 9:55 am] Tell Teacher "I'm Fine" When She Asks_

_[10:00 am – 10:50 am] Stare Blankly at English Textbook and then Hurriedly Ask to Go to the Bathroom (Where You Can Apply Lip Tint Under Your Eyes)_

_[11:19 am – 11:20 am] Come Back into the Room 1 Minute Before Class Ends and Apologize with Your Newly Red Eyes_

_[11:25 am – 12:05 pm] Sit at the Tall Tables Near the Window in the Café with Friends and Eat Chicken Strips (After Ripping Them into Little Bites)_

_[12:10 pm – 2:00 pm] Civics and Sketch Dark Scribbles Around the Edges of Notebook Paper_

_[2:01 pm] Get into Spencer's Car and Grab Snacks at the Nearest Gas Station_

_[2:45 pm – 10:45 pm] Lay On Back On Social Media Until Mom Takes Phone Away (But Tell Friends You're Going for a Walk)._

Overall, an eventful, but not unexpected day. Change made him sick. He'd gotten his schedule down to a science for that reason. Throwing up for real, no oatmeal under the desk or milk and honey in a water bottle, wasn't something he was okay with. If there would come a day where his antics would ramp up to actually having to do the actual thing, he might stay home from school for a week and fake a rehabilitation note. Come back completely normal. Start a separately depressing storyline—the Reckless Teen that Lost Himself. Maybe fake some amnesia.

Maybe when he got into college. 

Aaron slid into the backseat of Spencer's car. He would sit in the front, but that seat was reserved for Spencer's backpack and whatever goodies they would get at the Station. Although this would usually make him feel sad, they'd been doing this for awhile, and Spencer had heavily assured him that if it was anyplace else, he would panic. 

Spencer had OCD Complex. Kind of. His mom had OCD Complex and Spencer was a fast learner. The [Complex] was included to make sure no one could use it as an excuse or reasoning for a fault. No one could blame Spencer for kicking their guests into the backseats while the front seat was reserved for a heavily organized haul, or his mom for making Aaron walk through the front door three times. Because they were [Complex].

Sure, he wasn't as bothered by light switches as Diane was. But he'd be damned if he didn’t lock the car door twice or text Aaron in threes or tap his pencil eraser to the desk in intervals of six. Little things. Nothing to write home about.

Usually Aaron would get an obscenely big Gatorade and a pack of gum, and Spencer would grab some strawberry milk. However, on particularly spectacular days where Aaron's acting got people really worried, he'd just sit in the car while Spencer went inside. Today wasn't really one of those days. He was pretty hyper. 

"What are we gonna do tonight?" Aaron said, practically bouncing around Spencer.

"Study," Spencer said, looking at the shelves of illuminated Vitamin Waters and frowning, "They rearranged."

"Yikes," Aaron sighed. He turned down the hype for a moment. He stood beside Spencer and looked over the glass-encased disappointment liquids. "Do you wanna go to a new place?"

"No," Spencer shook his head a bit. "Nowhere else has the kind I like."

"Okay." Aaron felt bad that Spencer's issues were so trivial as this. "Let's take a lap and figure out where our stuff is."

Spencer looked defeated. Aaron felt even worse—he decided not to bring up how bad his own day was.

When Spencer pulled in front of Aaron's house, his face calmly upset, Aaron unbuckled before turning to his friend. 

"Do you want to come in?"

"You're not going to study," Spencer said quietly, his hands gripping the wheel.

"I can try..." Aaron's face looked pained, but Spencer nodded anyway.

"Thank you." He pulled to the side of the driveway, in between the big tree in the neighbor's yard and the mailbox, and parked. This was Spencer's Special Spot. 

"Let's go, big guy," Aaron mumbled. He closed the car door with his hip as Spencer muttered  _big guy?_ under his breath.


	3. Chapter 3

"Hey, Spencer," Nel called over her shoulder as she packed lunches for the next day. Spencer stared at them as he passed, waving to Aaron's mother. He always saw Nel pack the lunches, but never saw Aaron eat them. "How's Diane doing?"

"The same," Spencer said loudly before muttering, _"The same. The same."_

Aaron clapped him on the back and gently pushed him towards his room. "Thanks mom, see you later."

"Do your homework." Nel peeked around the corner, "Spencer, keep him in check."

"Okay!" He called before murmuring, "no" under his breath. He smiled at Spencer, who gave him a doubtful look. When Aaron closed the door, Spencer dropped himself on the bed and looked at his brunette friend.

"Why do you always insist on being rude to your mom?" Spencer asked him. He reached over and grabbed his bag but kept looking at Aaron. "You're nice to my mom."

"All teens are supposed to rebel a bit."

"You're... like, all rebellion, though." Spencer frowned, "When does it end?"

"Stop being dramatic." Aaron knelt by his television, an old Colortrak RCA with a comb filter that hummed when he clicked it on. "What do you wanna watch?"

"Fantasia." Spencer began to unpack his Biology homework, two notebooks full of useless information that the teacher told him NOT to write down. The notebook of stuff she did tell him to write down was at his house. He never quite used that notebook—she never really taught them anything. 

Two notebooks full of past boyfriends and offensive opinions on teenage angst. Aaron liked to study those. See what advantages he could have with stereotypes.

"Fantasia? Really?" Aaron asked, plucking the tape from the stacks of others, "You know, there are more Disney movies."

"You only have the ones that scared me when I was little." Spencer shook his head, "Fantasia is tame compared to the other ones."

"You can just cover your ears for the mop part."

"Thanks," Spencer said with a timid roll of his eyes. "For your permission."

"No problem." Aaron grabbed the dusty controller and jumped onto the bed beside Spencer. The brunette nearly hit his head on the lip of the top bunk. "You're getting too tall for this thing."

"You're getting too old for a bunk bed," Spencer shot back. " _Old. Old."_

"You got me," Aaron agreed. The television screamed as the first commercial came on, the speakers threatening to blow out. Spencer punched his palms to his ears. Aaron casually turned the volume down. "My bad."

Spencer glared but turned back to his notes. "Do you remember what Ms. M said her most recent ex-boyfriend's name was?"

"She didn't say," the shorter friend said, fiddling with the remote and staring forward. "She told us he was a lawyer though."

"No, I got the lawyer part." Spencer tapped his pencil against his bottom lip. Three times. "I'll call him Bob."

" _Bob_?"

"What should I call him, then?"

"Fluffy."

"He isn't a pet, Aaron," Spencer sighed. 

"Jim, then." Spencer opened his mouth to question. Aaron cut him off, "Jim Carrey from Liar, Liar."

"Nice."

Fantasia began. It was the same movie Spencer always picked—he knew every score by heart. Every now and then he'd tap his toes or wave his finger, but it was never too obvious. Spencer wasn't a music guy anymore. Not outwardly.

Spencer shrugged his jacket off. "People say it's gonna snow tonight."

"You're kidding," Aaron turned his head fast. He felt dizzy for a moment. 

"Why would I joke about it?" The tall brunette closed his notebook. "I can stay over if you want. I know you don't like snow days."

"They might not." 

Spencer gave him a look. 

Their school system was very trigger happy when it came to snow days. They had 15 snow days last year, none of which had actual snow, 10 of which reached 59 degrees during the day. It was ridiculous. And it absolutely always ruined Aaron's schedule.

"Okay," Aaron sighed. 

"I can drive over to my house real quick and grab some clothes."

"Don't be silly," Aaron groveled. He hiked a thumb over his shoulder, "Nel has a collection of clothes that are just your size."

Spencer blushed.


End file.
